


Like Darkness...

by LadyMorgaine76



Series: Beyond The Cockpit [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 11:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13950306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine76/pseuds/LadyMorgaine76
Summary: Wes is released by the medics and the NRI.Now, he has to face going back home and raise his children without Tycho...





	Like Darkness...

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I watch movies about mourning your loved ones...

  Cry.

  Why won't you cry?

  Open your mouth and scream!

  Wail until your throat is raw and bloody!

   They're gone…

  All of them…

  He's gone…

  He's gone…

 

  Cry, you numb asshole!

 

  It's like I'm trapped inside myself and life dares to advance without me.

  Without my permission... Without my desire…

    _“We're so sorry, Wes…”_

   I'm sure they are, but I have no words. No answers…

  I've lost a lot in my lifetime. Once I was a bit more aware that death lurks in the corners, waiting to take the ones we love…

  Then one day I forgot! I started to believe it had stopped. That I could love. That I was allowed to.  So, I fell in love again, built a family, a home.

    My family, my home…

   But there are three men that won't come back to me… ever again…

  Wedge.

  Hobbie.

  _Tycho…_

   I want to cry, I do. I really do. But my mind keeps shutting down, numbing me.

  All I can do is wander through our apartment aimlessly…

   I can't breathe.

   I can't even concentrate on the tasks ahead of me.

   At any moment my mother will arrive with our children…

  What will I tell them?

  I'm sorry but your father won't be coming home. All you have is this _daree_ shaped shell holding his conscious being… a body that can't find the strength to cry when my mind is yelling.

  Why?

  Why them?

  Why did I survived?

  _WHY???_

  Please bring them back. Bring my ‘brothers’ back. Bring my husband back.

  This home smells of him. I feel him everywhere. I hear him everywhere. I see him everywhere…  A fitting end for Wes Janson.

  You thought I was nuts? Watch me break down and lose my sanity because I was helpless to save any of them.

 Come on in, ladies and gentlemen! Watch the prankster-king plunging into madness...

  I think the Gods are cruel!

  Pray, my boy! Pray and you shall receive!

  What a load of bantha crap!

  I prayed. A lot. I was a devoted follower of my homeworld Gods. Look at my rewards! My _daree,_ my brother, my first husband, and now…

  Oh, Tycho… You were my strength. My renewed will to live. How can I do this alone? How will I raise our children alone? How will I explain why you're not here with them… with me?

  There's something... Wait… Oh, it's my commlink…

   “Wes? Where are you _tanee?_ I'm at the door. I rang but --”

   _Maree_ is here… kriff, I'm so gone I didn't even hear the buzzer!

   “I'm here. I'm… wait a second, I'm coming to open the door.”

   One step, than another, and another…  There you go! Good boy! Back straight. Small breaths. Don't lose it now. Your children are here. Think of them. Just open the door and compose yourself.

  The door slides to allow my mother in, with my four children in tow. Mia came with them too. Of course.

  I must really have a shitty look on my face… their shocked faces tell me everything I need to know.

  My children are looking at me. Innocent confusion in their eyes… and an uncanny dour expression in my son's face.

 They know.

 My mother wanted to spare me, for sure. She told them. I hope she found the right words to break it to them easily.

  I know how it feels to be told your father is no more… The little ones are barely over a year old. It will take time to fully comprehend that Tycho won't be back home ever.

   I do things mechanically. I speak mechanically…  I can't even account for the time they remained with me. They spoke… I know that… maybe tomorrow my brain will recall exactly what.

  All I remember is my children's warmth against me as we sat on the living room couch. It was somewhat soothing, their small bodies huddling against mine. That very distinctive smell of their hair.

  The shampoo Tycho sent on their travel bags.

  The last groceries together.

  The last domesticity tasks, before… Little things. Futile for others, are the my most cherished memories.

  His hand on mine. His bright smile. His mesmerizing ice-blue eyes. His closeness as I watched him sleep. How good it felt to wake up at his side. His silvery voice as the last sound I heard on those happy nights… and the first sound, every morning.

   _“Good morning, my love.”_

   It was my own version of paradise. All lost to me now.

  Had I asked too much? Dreamt too high? Is this some kind of cruel punishment for my hubris?

   It's amazing how much daily tasks can become automatic, like a second nature…

  My mother and sister were gone. They wanted to stay and help. There was no need, I assured them. I'd be at a comms’ distance.

  I cooked. Fed the kids. Cleaned. Watched holo with them. Bathed them and put them to bed.

  Maybe this ain't real!  Maybe that's why it all seems blurry, like in a bad dream… a nightmare. Maybe I'm about to wake up now. At any minute. I'll open my eyes and Tycho's sleeping figure will be there!

    Wake up, wake up, wake up…

    _You are awaken, knucklehead!_

  I wander to our bedroom and there it is… Two changes of clothing. Waiting for us to get back home, neatly folded on top of our pillows. I take mine and put them aside for now. I sit down and grab his clothes. I brush my fingers through the fabric. His blue vest… his favourite.

  It was my brother's. I gave it to him on Taanab, eight years ago and he's treasured it since!

_Had treasured it…_

  Fuck!

  Fuck, fuck, fuck…

   I can smell his perfume on it. It seeps into me , takes over me...

   _Tycho…_

  I'm surprised by my own sob. It's more like a moan than anything. My throat hurts with the tension. My eyes burn.

  I take the vest and leave our bed behind. I need to get myself to the balcony…

  Outside, in this ugly planet-sized city, no one cares, no one sees anything, no one listens.

  The cold air hits me like a slap to the face. I fall to my knees clutching my husband’s cherished blue vest.

  All the memories flood me at once.

  Their faces, all we lived together as a family.

  My family…

  Gone…

  My mouth opens and the sound escapes me. Warm wetness pours uncontrollably from my eyes

  It the cold night of Coruscant, the pain takes hold of me. My mind breaks free of the numbness…

  Finally, I cry...

  

  

 

  

 

  

  


End file.
